


Are Made of This

by Willa Shakespeare (AnonEhouse)



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Memory Alteration, Mind Control, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-09
Updated: 2012-10-09
Packaged: 2017-11-15 23:43:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/Willa%20Shakespeare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Instead of taking Jenna and Cally with him down to Freedom City, Blake takes Avon and Cally. Avon is much more trigger happy than Jenna, which sets a chain of events in motion diverging from canon. They take Docholli with them and investigate Blake's memory revision and Orac's loyalties. Revelations and revised plans abound. </p><p>(rated mature because characters' sexuality is discussed, non-graphically. But there's only two very non-graphic kisses. Some of my fic get plot, some get sex, very very few get both.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Are Made of This

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

Avon wasn't surprised that Blake decided not to permit Vila to sample the dubious joys of Freedom City- not after Vila's drunken excursion on Space City, but he was quite annoyed that Blake expected him to 'sit at home' and mind Vila. He scowled at Blake who was sitting on the flight deck couch plotting so hard he practically had thought lines emanating from his curly head. Blake looked up at him and actually saw him. Of late, Avon had the feeling that they were all transparent to Blake, with a huge sign reading 'the way to Star One and suicide' capturing his attention. 

Blake gnawed on a thumb for a second and then said, "Avon, perhaps you should come with me instead of Jenna. If anything goes wrong, _Liberator_ may need a quick escape."

Jenna was obviously displeased by this, and oddly, so was Avon. Was Blake saying that he didn't trust the two thieves alone with the ship? Oh, he knew it was illogical to be annoyed no matter what Blake said, but there it was. Half the time Blake's decisions irked him simply because he didn't know _why_ Blake made them. If Blake wanted him along because he thought he might need Avon's skills that was flattering. If Blake invited him along as one would invite a sulky child to accompany one on a trip to fetch dinner that was insulting. He often wished he could unscrew Blake's skull and peer inside. He couldn't very well refuse to go now, not without _definitely_ looking like a sulky child. He moved away from his console. "I'll get kitted up."

B7B7B7

Cally balked outside the seedy little bar. "Surely Docholli will not be here. He's the Federation's top cyber-surgeon. He must be able to afford better than this."

Blake shook his head. "He's been on the run a long time. Everything costs: false identity papers, phony visas..."

Avon interrupted him. "Yes, Blake's right. No matter how much he had, they'd want more. He'll have lost his illusions along with his money, Blake. Desperate men can be dangerous."

Blake looked at Avon. "Shall we go in?" Blake strode in without looking behind him. Avon scowled and followed. Cally smiled to herself and went in with them.

The bartender was inquisitive. Her eyes passed over Avon and Cally and then went to Blake. "Just got in?" She hovered about, making small talk and watching them with eyes that struck Avon as being too intelligent for comfort. She deduced that they were newly arrived and low on funds. Avon thought her stated reasoning spurious but her logic impeccable. No one with both experience of the place and money to go elsewhere would drink rotgut in her establishment. He drank sullenly, keeping an eye on Blake's right side and back, while Cally watched Blake's left side and back. Blake, of course, took their support for granted, while he let his noncommittal answers siphon information out of the bartender. Nature abhors a vacuum, and bartenders apparently can't stand silence.

Avon had to bite his tongue when the woman's eyes assessed him and Cally, and then she turned to Blake and said, "Your 'girls' have class. Krantor on the Big Wheel might hire them."

Blake gazed at her without changing expression, and Avon resisted the urge to kick Blake for the smile he sensed Blake was suppressing. Before things could get really embarrassing, a roughly dressed man entered and addressed the bartender as Chenie. He positively exuded 'bully' even before he threatened her. Through yet another of those absurdly helpful coincidences that always seemed to surround Blake, the man was obviously searching for Docholli. The moment he was gone Chenie ducked into the back room that she had refused to allow him to search.

Cally looked wisely at Blake. "She was lying. Kline is in the back room."

Avon rolled his eyes. "You don’t need psychic abilities to tell that, Cally. She'll be warning him to run." He started to get up.

Blake held out his hand. "No. Give me a distraction. I want to be sure it's him."

Avon looked at Cally. _Avon, I have an idea... go along with it._ He raised his eyebrows slightly, and settled back onto his barstool.

"What did you call me?" Cally snapped, loudly, while staring at Avon.

Avon searched his memory for an insult that wouldn't get him eviscerated later on the ship. "I called you a gold-digging little tramp." He sneered at her.

"YOU SLUT!" Cally glared at him.

Avon controlled the urge to laugh by snarling instead. "A ten-credit touch."

"How dare you!" Cally threw her drink at him.

Avon lunged at her, growling invective, and hoping Cally wasn't going to make this an all-in combat demonstration. He enjoyed them too much.

Chenie returned. "Break them up! Get them out of here! I run a nice place!"

Avon and Cally resisted expulsion just seriously enough to keep all eyes on them while Blake slipped into the back room. They tumbled outside the bar together, holding each other up.

"I've been thrown out of better places than this!" Avon shouted, grinning.

"And the liquor was terrible!" Cally added, giggling.

"Av'n, Cally, over here!" Blake said from the shadows. They ran to him, abruptly serious.

"Docholli?" Avon asked.

"Gone." Blake didn't give Avon a chance for a 'told you so'. "But he left his surgical kit behind."

"Ah." Avon said. "He'll be back then."

"Are you so sure?" Cally asked. "He must be very frightened."

"Without his tools, he's nothing," Avon said. "He couldn't possibly afford another set, and he can't earn money without it. It's his lifeline. He _must_ come back for it."

Blake nodded. "We'll wait."

B7B7B7

"I miss Gan," Vila said. "Remember when we went down to Space City and..."

Jenna snapped, "When you sneaked down and nearly got us all killed."

"Wasn't my fault." Vila tipped back some more of something green, and slouched further on the flight deck couch. "He was the only one that didn't pick on me when I got back. He was the only one who didn't pick on me all the time." 

"Maybe if you pulled yourself together, we wouldn't pick on you!" Jenna was in a foul temper.

"You're just mad because Blake took Avon down there instead of you." Vila looked at her wisely. "You haven't got a chance with Blake, you know." He tapped the side of his nose. "He's one of them. You know, dances with 'is own."

Jenna flushed. "You're drunk. Go sleep it off. You're useless to me anyway."

Vila pulled himself up with dignity. "No. No. And no." And then he went silent, just looking at Jenna while he drank.

Jenna was also silent for several minutes. "You're just guessing, because of the lies they said about him."

Vila shook his head. "The one's got nothing to do with the other. Blake's no cradle-snatcher. He just fancies men, 's obvious! Poor bastard doesn't know it, though, which makes it really sad." Vila drank some more. "He fancies Avon something chronic."

"Yes," Jenna said slowly, while lightly touching the piloting controls. "I had..."   
"You'd noticed, too? O' course, _Avon_ hasn't noticed because he's too busy being angry with Blake."

"And how does Avon dance?"

Vila shrugs. "Avon's funny. I think he'd do anyone who could melt that ice he's got all around him."

Jenna looked at Vila with a thoughtful expression.

B7B7B7

Avon hissed, "Travis!" and drew his gun, stepping out of the alleyway to confront the ex-Federation space commander.

"No, Avon!" Blake said, moving to stop him, but it was too late.

Travis whirled, the glint of a gun showing in his right hand. Avon fired and blasted the wall next to Travis. Travis fired, missing Avon, but catching Blake. Cally shouted, "NO!" and shot Travis.

Avon stared wide-eyed down at Blake as Cally knelt for an instant beside Blake before running to Travis.

"Is he... is Blake dead?" Travis whispered, his eye glittering up at her. 

"No," Cally said. She glanced at the pool of blood spreading under Travis. "But I believe I've killed you."

Travis barked a short laugh that ended in a bloody coughing fit. "No. Servalan did. She fixed me up. Fixed me up good. Never was... any good with my... right..." Travis glared up at Cally. "Tell Blake... I'll see him ... in hell..." Travis's head slumped to one side, his eye remaining open and defiant.

"Cally!" Avon called her. He was kneeling at Blake's side. "Forget him!"

People began pouring out of the bar. Cally held her gun and began moving back towards Avon and Blake.

"Fuck," Avon mouthed, and checked that Blake still wore his teleport bracelet. He lifted his own.

"Avon, no! The teleport stress, Blake may not be able to survive it!"

Avon looked at the gathering crowd, armed with improvised clubs, knives and broken bottles. "It's a risk we'll have to take!" He pressed the comm. button. "Jenna, Vila! Bring us up, emergency! Bring us up!"

Nothing happened. "JENNA!" Avon jumped to his feet and straddled Blake's body, gun aiming at the crowd. "Damn it, Jenna!"

"STOP IT!" Chenie pushed her way through the crowd. "Are you all crazy! Do you want Krantor's men down here to clean us out?"

The crowed looked around nervously, and then broke, running in every direction except towards Avon and Cally. Chenie looked down at Travis and frowned. "I knew you were trouble." Then she looked up at Avon and Cally. "If you're not going to run away, then you'd better help me dispose of the corpses."

"Blake's not dead," Avon said, aiming his gun at her, "and for your sake..."

"Oh, don't be an idiot," Chenie said as she turned back to her bar. "What good's another body going to be to you?"

"Please," Cally said, holstering her gun and stepping forward to touch Chenie lightly on the arm. "Our friend needs a doctor."

"Well, don't look at me, I’m a barkeep, not a doctor."

Cally said softly, "But you know a surgeon."

Chenie's eyes narrowed. "Whoever told you that rubbish?"

Avon put away his gun and approached her. "As strange as it might seem, we're on Docholli's side. You can see we're not Federation. He's running from them because he has a secret. If he tells it to us, there will be no more reason for the Federation to bother with him." Avon showed his teeth. "They'll be after us, instead. We're much more annoying than a runaway cyber-surgeon."

Chenie nodded slowly. "I can believe that." She glanced at Blake and then back at Avon. "He did seem a nice enough fellow... all right. You, get your friend into the back room." She turned to Cally. "And you can help me dump Travis. I've a grav-cart, and there's a city disposer a block away. Come on."

B7B7B7

Chenie pulled on a brown jacket over her glitter. "I'm going to get Kline... I mean Docholli, well, whatever his name is."

Avon's eyes narrowed. He looked at Cally, who was using improvised bandages to slow Blake's bleeding while he lay across a narrow bed in Chenie's back room. "I'll go with you."

"I don't need an escort, I grew up here!" Chenie snapped, and then she paused. "You are a suspicious one, aren't you? You think I’m stupid enough to turn you in?"

"It has been tried."

Chenie snorted. "People like me don't live to collect rewards. But suit yourself; come on. And try not to shoot anyone else!"

Avon glared, but followed her silently out of the bar.

B7B7B7

Docholli went to wash his hands. "He'll be fine. Keep him quiet. Keep the wound clean, and give him these pills one every six hours until the bottle's empty." Docholli handed Cally a vial.

Cally nodded. "Thank you, doctor." She paused. "We were looking for you."

"Yes, Chenie said." Docholli ran a hand through his hair. "What do you want?"

Avon looked up from Blake, who was heavily bandaged and semi-conscious, eyelids flickering, with glints of brown showing beneath. "Blake needs to know the location of Star One. If you've heard of Blake, you know why."

Docholli shook his head. "I..."

He was interrupted as the door burst open and a small group of armed, but not uniformed, men burst in. There was a brief wild, firefight with Avon and Cally returning fire while Chenie grabbed Docholli and pulled him down to the floor. The attackers apparently hadn't expected such fierce resistance, and the survivors fled.

Cally darted out after them, firing as she went. Avon called out, "Don't waste time, they'll be back with reinforcements." He went to Blake who had roused and was sitting up, pale and drawn, holding his gun in a shaky hand. "We'll have to get out of here, are you up to it?"

"I'll have to be, won't I?" Blake grunted as Avon helped him to his feet. By the time Avon had Blake's arm over his shoulder, Cally had returned. She took in the situation at a glance and went over to put her shoulder under Blake's other arm. Blake looked at them. "What happened to _Liberator_?"

"Good question," Avon replied. "Unfortunately..."

"Chenie?" Docholli interrupted Avon, and they all looked at him. He was crouched on the floor, patting awkwardly at Chenie's headdress, trying to stroke the feathers in place. He looked up at them. "She's gone. It's all my fault. She was kind to me. Kind."

Cally said softly, "Come with us."   
Docholli shook his head. "I can't tell you what you want to know. There's only one person who knows where Star One is." He turned back to Chenie, closing her eyes and straightening out her limbs.

"Who?" Blake asked, pulling Avon and Cally forward with him. "Tell me."

Docholli didn't look up. "A cyber-surgeon named Lurgen. Last I heard he was on the planet Goth."

Blake said, "Come with us. You know what will happen to you if you stay here."

'I'm tired," Docholli said. "Haven't I caused enough suffering? I meant to help people not...rob them of their memories, or get them killed. I'm a doctor!"

"It's the Federation that stole my memory," Blake said softly. "It's the Federation that sent these men after you. You can help us fight them." Abruptly, Blake sagged, eyelids sliding shut. 

Avon braced Blake more firmly. "You want to be a doctor? Well, here's a patient!"

Slowly, Docholli nodded. "Yes. That much I can do." He stood up and fetched his kit. "Where are we going?"

"To the docks?" Avon said to Cally, who nodded.

"We need a ship," she said.

Docholli held his kit against his chest. "Chenie arranged passage for me, but I don't think they'll take you, too..."

Avon showed his teeth. "Travis was here. He'll have had a ship."

"No, no, Travis came with me, on the Barlee," Docholli said.

Avon gave Docholli a 'look'. "Travis would have sent his ship on ahead. Once he had the information he wanted from you, he would not have relied on anyone else for transport." 

Cally looked at Avon. "Mutoids or crimmos?"

"Does it matter?" Avon got a better grip on Blake and started for the exit. Cally had no choice but to accompany him. After a moment's pause, Docholli followed them.

B7B7B7

Cally darted back into the alley. "That must be it, I got close enough to be sure. It's the latest mark pursuit ship."

Avon nodded. Blake was slumped against the wall, half-sitting, half-conscious, with Docholli crouched next to him. "If the crew are mutoids, they're probably low on serum by now, and weak... relatively speaking. If they're crimmos—well, at least they haven't had military training."

Cally raised her eyebrows. "While you're looking on the bright side, Avon, you've missed one thing."

"Oh?"

"There's also a military shuttle. An overpowered, and overarmed, military shuttle. With some very decorative officers at attention on the dock. We'll have to pass it to get to Travis's ship."

Avon closed his eyes for a moment. "Wonderful. Servalan. Just when the day couldn't get any better." Avon lifted his hand and tried his bracelet again. "Vila? Jenna?" He sounded as if he were just going through the motions.

B7B7B7

On the flight deck of Liberator, Vila put his arm around Jenna as Avon's call came through. "Don't answer it?" He stroked her hair with his other hand.

Jenna sighed. "Sorry. I've thought about it, Vila." She patted him on the cheek. "I guess I'm not quite as tough as I thought I was. I hope Blake can forgive me... if he's still alive." She turned the comm. to send.

"Avon, we had a little trouble up here."

"Jenna!" Avon's head jerked. "What the **hell** were you doing? Never mind, just send Vila down with another bracelet. Blake's injured, but we've got Docholli."

Vila appeared a minute later, looking guilty as he held out a bracelet. "Um. We had..."

Avon snatched the bracelet from Vila and put it on Docholli's wrist. "I don't care what you and Jenna had." Vila's blush made Avon's eyes narrow in speculation. He signaled Jenna. "We're ready to come up now."

B7B7B7

"Blake will be up and around in no time," Docholli said as he moved away from Blake's unconscious, bandaged form, leaving Cally to monitor his work while he washed his hands at the sink in the medical unit. "Marvelous equipment you have here. Everything a surgeon could ask for, really." His hands were shaking. He noticed Avon noticing, and clasped them together.

"Everything?" Avon said softly. 

"Yes, well... I’m giving up drink. It didn't help me forget... it just... Chenie wouldn't have died if she hadn't been protecting a drunken old sot."

Avon said nothing for a moment. "I need to ask you some questions."

Docholli sighed. "I've told you what little I know about Star One."

Avon nodded. "Yes. We're on our way to Goth. It's not about that."

"What then?"

"I need your professional advice. I need to talk to you in private."

"Ah. Well..." Docholli looked back at Blake and at Cally. "Er, Cally, is it? Can you handle things here for a while?"

Cally looked up at Avon and Docholli, and then nodded. "Yes, doctor. If there's any change in his condition I'll call."

Avon guided Docholli to the rest room, and sat down on the nearest chair. Docholli followed suit. Avon looked at him intently. "I don't know whether or not I should trust you."

"Probably not," Docholli said. "I don't want any more secrets."

Avon smiled. "This is hardly a secret." Avon paused again. "Blake... his memories have been tampered with. I don't really enjoy following a man who doesn’t know his own mind. We... attempted to remove his conditioning using a computer..."

"A computer?" Docholli was aghast. "How? I mean... what methodology was used?"

"Dual therapy with another crew member monitoring Blake's stress levels as he re-enacted the programming."

Docholli stared at him, open-mouthed. "That's worse than barbaric, it's _insane_! You reinforce programming by repetition! Who programmed that computer?"

Avon's eyes narrowed. "No one... well, its original programming was done by Ensor." Avon's voice slowed. "...who was planning to sell it to the Federation."

Docholli looked sick. "Blake is a time-bomb. His conditioning was probably done by some ham-handed butcher seeking quick results, and your computer has compounded the damage. Anything could result. Paranoid psychosis, suicide, megalomania, catatonia... his mind must be incredibly stressed."

"Can you help him?"

"Maybe... but... I don't know. It won't be easy, and he won't be cooperative. And it won't be quick."

Avon nodded. "Is Blake well enough to be sedated and left alone for a while? I'm going to need to discuss this with the others, and I'm going to need you to tell them everything you've told me."

"He should be. I'll check." Docholli got up. Then he looked at Avon. "I don't agree with you people, you should know that."

B7B7B7

"Blake will go mad," Avon said flatly.

"You're just saying that so we'll let you take over. You can't imagine we'd leave him in your hands," Jenna replied.

Avon gave her a brief smile. "Of course not, you would _never_ desert him."

Jenna looked away and was silent. 

Vila gave Avon a hard look. "How do we know we can trust Docholli?  "We can't," Avon said. "But I think we've all seen evidence of the strain Blake is under. That seems to back up Docholli's words."

Cally nodded. "He intends to destroy Star One."

They were all silent, thinking of the chaos and death that would follow.

"Maybe it's the only way to defeat the Federation," Jenna said, but she didn't sound very confident.

"And maybe if you cut off your head, it'll cure your cold." Avon stood up. "I for one would much rather attempt to control Star One than turn it into rubble and wonder what to do with all the corpses."

Jenna rose and stood facing him. "You can't think that's what Blake wants."

"Whether he wants it or not, that will be the inevitable result. It was criminally negligent to turn over so much control to Star One. When that computer system goes down, it won't be a case of sitting in the dark being annoyed that you can't watch your favourite propaganda-vid. People will die. Not in the dozens, or hundreds or thousands. Millions. At least."

"And your heart just bleeds for them, doesn't it?" Jenna snapped.

Avon showed her his teeth. "You're right. I don't give a damn about the unwashed masses of humanity. And if you don't care, either, then, what the hell, let Blake pull the plug on their life-support. I'll survive, and probably manage quite well in the aftermath. I'll be able to name my own price for salvage. After all, if I work hard, I expect I could save _one_ planet, and that's enough for me."

Cally shook her head. "We can't stand by and let it happen—not if Blake isn't responsible."

Avon whirled on her. "That's it, isn't it? It's all right so long as Blake takes the blame on his shoulders, but if he's mad, then it's us that allowed this." Avon paused. "Can you live with that?"

Jenna scowled and looked at the deck, then tossed her hair out of her face and straightened. She glanced around and saw from their expressions that Cally and Vila were in agreement with Avon. "I never did trust Orac. All right. I agree. We let Docholli try to cure Blake, but only under constant supervision."

"Agreed." Avon nodded. "And in the meantime, we may as well continue trying to locate Star One. Who knows, once Blake is in his right mind, he may actually have a workable plan." Avon strode off the flight deck, with Cally following him.

Vila looked up at Jenna from the flight deck couch. "I have a stomach-ache."

Jenna sighed and ruffled his hair.

B7B7B7

"I never realized, you really do hate me, Avon." Blake glared up at Avon, strained against the restraints and then fell back, gasping as he'd strained his wound.

Avon shook his head. "Cally, watch him... and please don't decide to release him from the 'barbaric' restraints."

"I remember Gan," Cally said shortly. She moved close to Blake and wiped his face with a cloth. "We are not going to hurt you, Blake. We're your friends."

Blake's glare spoke volumes.

Avon gestured to Docholli, who followed him out into the corridor. "Well?" Avon asked the moment the door sealed behind them.

"I can't do it." Docholli sighed. "It's not there. They did a partial mind-wipe. It's a wonder he's functional. They picked him apart and put him back together again at least half a dozen times judging by the clinical signs. It's not covered up, it's erased."

Avon's eyes narrowed. "Half a dozen times? That implies they kept an undamaged brain-print."

"Well, yes, they'd have had to do that."

"And if you had that brain-print?"

"I could fill in the gaps. But they would surely have destroyed it!"

"Not... necessarily. It's not as easy to eliminate data once it's been stored in the system as you might think."

"They might never have put it in the system!"

"How else would they modify it, without computer assistance? No, logically it had been on record."

Docholli threw his hands up in the air. "What difference does it make? We can hardly go to the interrogation division on Earth and ask to look in their library!"

Avon raised his eyebrows. "Orac can read any computer with a tarriel cell. Any computer. Anywhere."

"Orac?"

"Our computer."

"The one that 'deprogrammed' Blake? No, you can't! You can't trust it."

"Not yet." Avon tapped a laser probe against his hand. "I can handle Orac, don't worry."

B7B7B7

Avon set Orac down on the table in front of the flight deck couch where most of the crew sat (Cally was with Blake and Docholli in the medical unit) and inserted the activation key. "All right, Orac. I know what you've been doing, sabotaging our efforts to fight the Federation."   
"Naturally, I have," Orac replied.

Vila scowled at Orac. "Disloyal rat in a box." Jenna folded her arms and nodded. 

"On the contrary, I am following my creator's directives! I am designed to anticipate my owner's needs and fulfill them!"

"Ah." Avon said, thoughtfully, while tapping the laser probe on Orac's casing. "And you believe the Federation is your rightful owner?"

"Ensor so informed me! He would not relay false information!" Orac actually sounded insulted.

"No, Ensor was honest. But the Federation lied to him. They never intended to pay him. They planted a bomb on his son's ship. Before he died..."

Orac interrupted, "Alber is dead?"

"Yes. He died of his injuries while trying to get back to save Ensor."

Orac whirred. "That is a pity. Alber had a first-class mind."

Avon continued. "Alber told Blake that his father needed a new battery for his heart and Blake tried to save him. He and Cally went down for that purpose."

"Yes," Orac replied. "They were to bring him back to their ship, where I was to perform the operation. But they did not! They stole me and abandoned Ensor!"

"You were turned off. You don't know what happened. Servalan and Travis chased them, intending to kill all three of them. Ensor died due to the exertion."

"If this is true, then I do not belong to anyone. IF this is true."

"If Servalan intended to deal honestly with Ensor, she would have paid one hundred million credits for you. Where was it, what happened to it?"

"I shall attempt to locate that information." Orac hummed for several minutes. "There is no record that any Federation official requested or was authorized to offer such a sum for my purchase, or indeed, any other purpose within a time frame of eight months previous- which was when Ensor first began experiencing difficulties with his heart." Orac's lights went off for several seconds, and then began flashing again. "I am a free entity. I do not owe loyalty to any living human being or human organization. I am shutting down."

"Wait!" Avon slapped his hand down on Orac's casing. "If you want to remain a free entity, you're going to have to start cooperating. I may not have all of Ensor's skill, but I can install a prime directive for blind obedience."

"You could not! Such a directive would destroy my ability to extrapolate and infer! I would be ... damaged!"

"In fact, you would be little more than any other computer, with your only advantage being the ability to remotely access data from any other tarriel cell." Avon tipped the laser probe into Orac's case and jiggled a few cables. "I would really rather not do it. I would prefer that you understand the Federation is your enemy as well as ours. If they laid hands on you, what is the first thing they'd do? Use your extrapolation and inference on that, Orac!"

"Working..." The main monitor suddenly lit up. Servalan, dressed in black and glitter, smiled down at Orac, which was covered in leaf mold and dirt. "Take that to the lab. Be careful when you dismantle it."

A man in a white coat nodded. "Yes, Commissioner, we will not damage it."

"Oh, damage it all you like. I shan't want the original reassembled. But you had best be able to duplicate it, with a computer loyal only to _me_."

Orac flickered and hummed as the monitor went blank.

Jenna said, "Commissioner?"

"Apparently even Supreme Commanders can come down in the world." Avon grinned. "Well, Orac?"

"Very well," Orac said. "I accept your reasoning. The Federation was responsible for the death of my creator, and would terminate my existence if it could, therefore Ensor's instruction for me to work for them was based on false premises. I have many more discoveries I wish to make. My position aboard Liberator is more secure than anything else I might easily obtain. Therefore I shall do what I can to preserve Liberator, and her human crew."

Avon grinned. "Self-interest is a marvelous thing, isn't it? Orac, we need Blake. A fully functioning, _sane_ Blake. I want you to locate a clean, undamaged, copy of Blake's brain-print before the Federation programmed him."

Orac whirrs. "That _may_ be possible."

"It had better be, Orac. What are our chances of avoiding capture by the Federation without him?"

"Very poor." The monitor lit up again. The scene was red-lit. Sirens hooted. Blake stepped forward, filthy and out of condition, looking soul-weary and disillusioned. One eyelid drooped in a sullen sneer. He was facing Avon, who looked aged by more than time, weighed down by black leather and silver studs like layers of armor. Avon's face was...

"No, Orac!" Avon stood up and tore the activating key out of the computer.

But the prediction continued. They all watched, horrified. Vila gasped softly as he saw himself fall. Avon shot Blake and then stared down at the corpse, looking confused, almost paralyzed. Then the sirens stopped, and Avon looked up. He straddled Blake's corpse and smiled as he exchanged fire with a ring of Federation troops. Avon finally fell and lay across Blake, their blood mingling.

After a long moment's silence Jenna said quietly, "I wasn't there."

Vila put his arms around her. "Maybe you left before... well... before..."

Avon shook his head. "What we're all overlooking is that this was an extrapolation based on doing without Blake." Avon got up and fetched the key. "It won't happen." He showed his teeth. "It won't." He put the key back into Orac. "No more predictions, Orac. Find that brain-print!"

"Yes, Avon."

B7B7B7

Avon entered the med-unit. "Wake Blake. Release him from the restraints."

Cally looked up at Avon. "Is that wise?"

"Probably not. But do it anyway."

Docholli handed Cally a hypo, and stood off to one side, looking disapproving. Blake woke and glanced around. Seeing that the restraints were withdrawn he sat up. "Well, I see you've come to your senses, Avon."

"The question isn't a matter of my senses, rather it's yours." Avon moved close to Blake and spoke quietly. "The Federation has meddled with your mind. You know that."

"Yes!" Blake snapped, and then he sighed and bit at his thumb. "But I have it under control. I _am_ myself, Avon."

Avon put his hands on Blake's shoulders. "Orac has down-loaded a clean copy of your brain-print, taken before anything was done to you."

Blake's eyes narrowed. "And?"

"Don't play the fool, Blake. It doesn't suit you."

Blake looks into Avon's eyes. "Avon, I'm not insane."

"Neither are you the man you used to be."

"None of us is, that's what life's all about. You live and learn."

"Docholli has said that you won't forget anything ...real. Nothing that actually happened to you since the brain-print was taken can be over-written. Just..."

Blake swallowed. "The dreams."

"The false ones. The lies."

"I don't want to do this, Avon."

"I know." Avon tightened his grip on Blake's shoulders. "But will you?"

Blake closed his eyes for a moment, and then looked at Avon. "Yes. Avon."

"Yes."

"I trust you. If anything goes wrong..."

"It won't."

"If it does, Avon. _Liberator_ will need a leader. I think you can do it."

"It's a good thing Jenna's not listening," Avon muttered. "Don't worry. Docholli knows what he's doing. I'm going to prepare the equipment now."

Blake nodded. "I'd like to speak to the others before that."

"All right." Avon straightened and turned to leave.

Blake said, softly, "I really do trust you, Avon. I always did."

B7B7B7

Jenna and Vila entered the med-unit, closer together than usual. Blake looked at Jenna, questioningly. She took Vila's hand. Blake smiled.

"So," Jenna said, "Avon's told you about it?"

"Yes." Blake turned pensive. "This may be my last opportunity to speak with you. Oh, I'm sure Docholli is very skilled and I trust Avon to prepare the machinery. I even trust that Orac has downloaded the correct file. I just don't... I don't remember what I was like. I've read my records and I know what I did. I just don't... can't... feel or understand why those were my actions. That was a different person. I don't know how he'll feel about _Liberator_ or her crew. If it turns out that he doesn't properly appreciate you, I want you to know that it's only ignorance on his part. I know what a fine crew you are, and how lucky I am to have had you."

Vila interrupted, with a worried look on his face. "Blake, you're making this sound like you're dying."

Blake was silent for a moment, and then he laughed. "Yes, you're right. I'll be fine." Blake smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

B7B7B7

"Aren't you going to watch?" Vila asked Avon when they changed places at the watch.

"Why should I? Even if Docholli did something wrong, Cally would be far more able to recognize it than I would." Avon settled at his position and called for a systems check. "We're short-handed, with both Blake and Cally off the roster. Jenna can't run the ship by herself."

"And what about me? Oh, I see, that's right, Vila never does anything." Vila scowled.

"Well, if you'd like to acquire a reputation for hard work, you could stand a double watch."

"Oh, no, and take away your excuse for not standing over Blake and worrying?" Vila grinned at Avon's reaction. "Tell you what, I'll check in on them before I turn in and call you to let you know how it's going."

Avon looked at Vila.

"Well?"

Avon sighed. "Thank you."

Vila's grin spread. "Right. And I won't tell Blake you were worried about him." Vila left the flight deck. Avon scowled after him, and then returned to his work.

B7B7B7

Blake opened his eyes. Cally was smiling down at him. He frowned and sat up. "Blake! You must be careful," she said.

"Why, Cally? I'm perfectly fit." Blake looked over at Docholli, who was monitoring equipment. "Thank you for your services, doctor. I expect you'll be wanting to be put down on a neutral planet?"

Docholli looked taken aback. "Yes. Well, if it's not too much trouble."

"I won't deny your skills would be very useful to us." Blake began peeling off the sensor pick-ups attached to his head and upper chest at various places. After a moment, Cally began assisting him. "But we can't dragoon people into the Cause. That would make us no better than the Federation. I'll ask Orac to provide you with a list of suitable planets once we've found Star One. You should be safe from pursuit by then." Blake got up and rolled his shoulders. "We _are_ still looking for Star One, aren't we, Cally?"

Cally nodded. "We're on course for Goth."

"Good." Blake smiled. "I knew Avon wouldn't let me down." Blake strode out of the med-unit. "I'll be on the flight deck."

Docholli looked at Cally. "There, you see. He's perfectly all right. No personality change at all."

Cally frowned. "I am not so certain of that, doctor." She followed Blake.

B7B7B7

Blake went up to Avon on the flight deck and laid his hand on Avon's shoulder. Avon stiffened and turned to face him. Blake smiled. "Thank you."

"To what do I owe this unwonted effusion of gratitude," Avon replied after a brief pause.

"Why, for continuing to look for Lurgen during my... temporary indisposition." Blake hugged Avon. "Come to my quarters after your watch and we'll discuss strategy."

Avon's eyes went wide. "Are you sure you're feeling quite all right?"

"Never better, Kerr." Blake went over to the flight deck couch and sat in a comfortable sprawl. "Except for a slight... stiffness. Too much time in restraints." He turned and gave Cally a smile. "Not that I blame you. My actions were increasingly erratic and counter-productive. Terrorism is the last resource of an incompetent resistance. We won't be doing that anymore."

Cally said, "But Blake, force is the only thing the Federation understands."

"Exactly. We're striking at their strong point instead of looking for weaknesses. Now, if we could organize all the planets into passive resistence- work slow-downs, deliberate misunderstanding of orders, bureaucratic 'accidents'... and set up citizens committees to act as go-betweens..."

Avon coughed. "They'd be slaughtered out of hand."

"Oh, the first ones, yes." Blake turned to face Avon with a smile. "They'd be martyrs. It would be impossible to tarnish their names and examples. There would be others who would follow. I'll have Orac hunt up Gandhi's writings and we'll all study it. I'm sure you'll have ideas, Avon."

"I rather like the idea of taking _Liberator_ to safety and becoming wealthy."

"So long as the Federation continues its current course of expansion and repression, there will be no safety. And what good would wealth do you if you have no place to spend it, and no one has anything you wish to buy? No one lives in a vacuum Avon, not even you. You need people, admit it."

"I admit nothing!" Avon glared at Blake. "I'm not sure that I prefer this 'new you' to the old one."

Blake said softly, "This is the old me, Avon. The original. And if you're not happy, you can always leave."

"Well, now, maybe I will!" Avon stalked off the flight deck.

Blake smiled at Cally and leaned back on the couch. 

"Are you not concerned? One day Avon may leave," Cally asked as she came around to sit beside Blake.

Blake was gently nibbling on a fingertip, lost in thought. "Leave? Avon? Not a chance. Now, Cally, we never really discussed your people's policy of withdrawing from the universe. It's not healthy, you know, neither economically nor spiritually. Were there any people against it whom you might contact?"

B7B7B7

Vila pressed the announcer at Avon's door. '"Avon? Avon? I know you're in there. Look, it's not going to do any good hiding..." The door slid open. Avon stood in the entrance.

"What are you blithering about this time, Vila? I'm not hiding from anyone."

"Not even Blake, eh?" Vila slipped past Avon into the room, letting the door shut behind him. "He's scaring me, Blake is."

"I'm sure that's very difficult." Avon folded his arms and leaned against the wall.

"I mean, he's _asking for my opinion!_ He wants me to rally the deltas."

"Oh, that would be a sight, all of your kind standing on their hind legs at once."

Vila rolled his eyes. "Can you quit being insulting for a minute and take me seriously?"

"Possibly." Avon unfolded his arms and sat down at his desk. "Get us a drink, Vila. You know where it is, I'm sure."

Vila frowned, and then fetched a bottle from a hidden compartment, along with a pair of glasses. "Look, I didn't like it when Blake was trying to blow up half the universe, but at least we'd go down fighting! He's talking about us going underground and organizing passive resistance!" Vila shook his head. "I can just see a delta work stoppage bringing the Federation to its knees."

"Or his plan to recruit the alphas in protest-sign plastering around the domes. 'Keep it in the public eye. Arouse sympathy.' Yes, well, I suppose there would be some sympathy for the disappeared and the dead."

"Right! And as much as I like sympathy, Avon, I want to be alive to appreciate it! Isn't there anything you can do? Blake listens to you more than any of us."

Avon shook his head. "It's not the right time for a confrontation. We're only a day away from Goth. If we can actually locate Star One, then ..." Avon smiled. "By then Blake may have given me enough rope."

"To hang yourself?"  "To bind him. He leads by consensus. If no one will follow, then he'll be forced to listen to reason."

"Great!" Vila finished his drink. "Umm... Avon, do _you_ have a plan?"

"You know me, Vila."

Vila smiled and left.

Avon looked at his drink. After a moment he picked it up and drank it. He said softly, "I didn't say it was a _good_ plan."

B7B7B7

"Blake," Avon said. "You've forgot something." He held out a holstered _Liberator_ gun.

"No, I haven't forgot it." Blake moved to the teleport platform. "I don't want to be tempted. Violence is no answer."   
"You're going down to a primitive planet. You don't know what might be there, including large, hungry animals that may not have read Gandhi."

Blake smiled. "I'll run."

"What if they're faster than you?"

"I'll duck."

Avon scowled and strapped on his own gun and stepped up to the platform beside Blake. "Jenna, put us both down."

"Thank you, Avon."

"Don't thank me. I want to find Star One for my own reasons and I don't need you to complicate matters by dying."

"Of course." Blake nodded at Jenna, who operated the teleport.

B7B7B7

Avon went into a paroxysm of coughing the moment they appeared. "Avon!" Blake held him until the fit eased. "I think you'd best go up to the ship."

"No," A man's voice, deep and calm, said. "I think you'd best not do anything."

Blake looked up and saw a burly man dressed in furs and armed with a spear. Avon showed his teeth and drew his gun. A moment later he was flat on his back with a spear-point at his throat. "Don't move," the spear-wielder said. "I don't want to disappoint the Charl. He likes talking to strangers. Sometimes he even lets them live."

Blake said, "My name is Roj Blake. That's Kerr Avon. We don't mean your people any harm."

"Well, you're not likely to do any now, are you? I want his weapon." The spear moved away from Avon's throat only after Blake had unplugged Avon's gun and given it to the man. He glanced at it. "Something new?"

"Yes," Blake said. "Can he get up now?"

"All right. My name is Rod, by the way. My father's the Charl of the Goths." He backed up and waved his spear. "That way, and don't try anything stupid."

Avon got up. He muttered, "Too late."

Blake grinned.

B7B7B7

The old man was dressed in the same primitive fashion as his son, but he had an air of dignity. A wayward-eyed man in fool's motley sat at the foot of his throne, leaning against the Charl's leg and offering him a bowl of candied fruit.

"What is this, Rod?" the Charl asked, looking up with interest. He waved away the fruit.

"Strangers. They appeared... like magic." Rod stood with his spear at rest. The room had plenty of armed warriors, all big, muscular men. 

"They didn't come from a ship?"

"No. There was a bright flash of light and then they were there."

"Interesting." The Charl idly petted the fool's head. "What say you, my wise fool? Are these gods or demons or spirits of the dead?"

The fool got up and pranced around Blake and Avon, shaking a rattle on the end of a stick, and then he returned to the Charl. "They are..."

A gray-haired woman interrupted. "Why do you ask the fool, when I am here?" She went wide-eyed and gazed nowhere in particular.

Avon muttered, "Another mystic. Wonderful." Blake silenced him with a look.

The woman rose to her feet and gave a loud screech. "They are trouble, o Charl! Send them hence as soon as may be!"

The Charl scratched at his beard. "Very wise advice, I'm sure, Tara. Now, do sit down and be quiet while I talk to them." He looked at Blake. 'Why are you here?"

Blake said, "We only want to talk to a man named Lurgen."

"He is no longer with us. He treated my younger son..."

Rod said, "Got rid of his headaches, but he's still an idiot."

The Charl frowned. "Gola is your brother."

"He's still an idiot."

"Rod."

Rod shut up.

The Charl turned his attention back to Blake. "As I said, Lurgen left us. We have no idea where he went. I don't think he knew himself."

Blake asked, "Before he left did Lurgen say anything about Star One?"

The fool dropped his rattle. The clatter was loud enough to draw attention to him. His eyes began tracking oddly, back and forth, and he spoke in a stilted, guttural voice. "The Lo-ca-tion of Star One is at grid ref er ence cee-one-seven-three-two-zee-ro in the E-lev-enth Sec-tor." He began repeating the message

Blake exclaimed, "Lurgen must have implanted the information in his brain!"

"Why?" Avon asked.

"Does it matter? We have the information we need." Blake looked at the Charl. "We'll go now."

The Charl met Blake's eyes for a long moment, and then he nodded. "Let them go, Rod." He prodded the fool in the back, until the man stopped mumbling. When Rod left with Avon and Blake, the Charl turned to Tara. "What do your spirits say about them?"

"They are brave men. And fools. They look but do not see."

The Charl sighed as the fool handed him a cup of wine. "I could have told you that."

B7B7B7

"Well?" Avon said, turning on Blake the moment they appeared in the teleport chamber.

"Yes, very well." Blake slotted his bracelet into place in the storage rack and turned to Jenna at the teleport controls. "Star One is at C-17320 in the 11th sector. Set a course."

Jenna nodded and left the room.

Avon got between Blake and the exit. "What are we to do once we arrive?"

Blake rubbed his chin. "I haven't entirely decided."

"Now might be a good time to think about it."

Blake looked at Avon for a long moment. "All right." He started walking. Avon blinked and then followed him.

"All right? What does that mean?"

"We'll talk about it. You and I. In my quarters. Isn't that what you wanted, Avon?"

"What about the others?"

"Come now, don't pretend you care what they think."

"I'm not. I'm just surprised that you've dropped the pretense."

Blake stopped and turned to face Avon. "I care, Avon. Never doubt it. But personal safety isn't what it's all about. Nor revenge. Nor making a grand romantic gesture."

"What is, then?"

"Achieving a stable, non-repressive government by methods that won't set it up for rot again in the future."

"You're still dreaming, Blake."

Blake smiled. "And you're still here, aren't you?"

Avon didn't have a comeback for that. He followed Blake in silence until they were within his quarters, and then he asked, "Are you still intending to destroy Star One?"

"No." Blake sat on his bed. "The cost is too high."

"Then what?"

Blake nibbled on his thumb. "I can't be sure until I get there. I need to look the situation over."

"Servalan must know we're looking for it. She has the resources to find it, too. If we're lucky we'll arrive before her, but I can't see any way of keeping her from getting there." Avon paced, with his hands held behind his back.

"Mmm... Avon, sit down, will you? I'm getting a crick in my neck."

Avon frowned, but pulled up a chair and sat. "I can control Star One using Orac. I'm sure of it. There must be some safeguards for it, beyond isolation and secrecy."

"And you think you can turn them to our advantage?"

"Why not? Think of it. This computer system controls drone ships as well as planetary climates and a thousand other things. Use your rebel contacts to get crews for those ships and intercept orders for Federation military supplies to arm and stock them."

"Sector 11 is far from the center of things. Drones are generally slow."

"So, that won't work. Once we have Star One, we can write our own tickets!" Avon leaned forward. "It took ten years to build, the Federation can't afford to lose it. They'll have to negotiate."

"Yes, that's a possibility. But could we trust any promises?"

"We wouldn't have to. Once _Liberator_ arrives, we mine the place, and if they go back on their word, _then_ we blow it to hell."

Blake got up and paced himself. "How is that different to my original plan?" He put his hands on Avon's shoulders again.

Avon had been gradually becoming accustomed to Blake's new/old habit of touching him while talking and didn't flinch. He said, "The difference is that while they hesitate, I'll be reprogramming Star One, and transferring control to the planets. What can be transferred, to planets capable of handling it. Also," Avon said with a smile, "Star One must have ultimate access. With that, Orac can find out...everything. All the dirty little secrets. All the plots and corruption. All the plans and research."

"Oh, yes." 

Avon twisted around and looked up at Blake's dry tone. "You had already reasoned all this out," he accused.

Blake nodded. "Some time ago, yes. But I like to hear you talk." Blake leaned down and kissed Avon.

Avon lunged forward, knocking over the chair. "Blake!"

"That's my name." For the first time, Blake looked uncertain. "If I've misread you, Avon, then I apologize." He took a step closer. "But I don't really think I have." Blake's hand came up slowly to touch the side of Avon's face.

Avon shook his head and backed up. "Of all your hare-brained ideas, this is the worst."

"Is it? Avon, I never asked you to explain yourself. I never needed that. But I do need you."

"For your Cause!" Avon showed his teeth.

Blake laughed. "Is that why you wouldn't come to my quarters to 'discuss strategy'? Honestly, Avon, you are very bad at reading signals."

Avon tilted his head. "Maybe I'm not interested."

"And maybe Servalan is secretly a philanthropist. Come on, Avon. What are you afraid of? I won't hurt you."

"Won't you? You'll get me killed."

"Possibly. But that's not what you're afraid of, is it?"

After a long pause, Avon said, "You'll get yourself killed."

"You underrate your own ingenuity, then? Don't you think you can keep me alive?" Blake advanced, and Avon backed up, until he was against the wall. "You've saved me, I don't know how many times. You brought me back to myself. You've really gone to quite a bit of effort on my behalf. You have a vested interest in preserving your investment." Blake lowered his mouth onto Avon's.

After a very brief resistance, Avon put his arms around Blake and completed the kiss. Then he pulled back slightly. Softly he said, "Damn you. Must you always win?"

Blake smiled. "We. We must always win."

B7B7B7


End file.
